


Twin

by Pinkmanite



Category: James Bond - All Media Types, London Spy
Genre: Drabble, LS x Bond Crossover, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 17:26:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5384177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinkmanite/pseuds/Pinkmanite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know, neither of us deserve the Best Twin of the Year Award,” Q leans into his brother, “but you’re still my twin. Now, start from the beginning.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twin

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from [spiritofcamelot](http://spiritofcamelot.tumblr.com/): “Go where you want with it but I’d be interesting in seeing Danny and Q as brothers. Up to you whether Q knows about Alex and Danny or if he was busy running missions. But it would be cool to see especially with the computer program in episode 4.”
> 
>  _Originally posted on tumblr on December 2, 2015_ [[x](http://baewhishaw.tumblr.com/post/134433720538/)]

The office phone is simply a formality. Q can’t remember if he’s ever used it. It had been installed long before he held the title of Quartermaster. It’s even possible that it was installed long before he was born. Q is fairly certain that line isn’t even secure. Q is a firm believer that his encrypted intra-messaging system is much quicker, much more efficient, and ridiculously more secure. Honestly, how had any interdepartmental information passed before him?

So when the dusty old telephone rings in its unfamiliar chirp, Q is slightly confused (and slightly intrigued). He cautiously picks it up, grimacing at the dust, and offers a careful, “hello?”

There’s a sharp breath and a hesitant pause.

“I’d… I’d like to order a pizza.”

Q freezes and nearly drops the phone, catching it by the cord at the last second. He hasn’t heard that voice in years, but it’s a voice he can never forget. He’d recognize it anywhere after any amount of time.

Eyes wide, he chooses his words very, very carefully, “ah, yes, a pizza. How would you like it?”

“Medium cheese, I suppose,” the tone is desolate and Q’s heart drops.

“Very well. The address?”

“1322 Pine Road.”

Q repeats the address in his head, committing it to memory. He glances from his half-soldered circuit board to the clock on the wall.

“Your pizza will arrive in an hour.”

He hangs up without another word.

* * *

If it were up to Q, he would never set foot in a gay club. It’s never been his style, never been the right scene. He prefers refined and intellectual men, not little boys drinking their parents’ money. Yet, here he is, an hour after the strange phone call. 

He’s not surprised in the slightest.

It’s Tuesday evening, hours before the weekday party crowd is due to come up. The place is just about dead, which makes it incredibly easy for Q to spot his target. He’d recognize that mop of brown curls anywhere.

“We ran out of pizzas,” Q casually leans on the table but doesn’t sit, doesn’t make eye contact, “follow me.”

Just because the clubs aren’t his scene doesn’t mean that Q isn’t familiar with how they work. He wanders around the back of the club until he finds the cluster of private VIP rooms. With a quick glance around, he quietly takes out his keyring and presses the lockpick into the door handle. As soon as it clicks, he grabs his companion’s arm and quickly pulls him in. Q lifts a finger to his lips to keep him quiet.

Q flips the lights on moves to the middle of the room. Pressing a few buttons on his wristwatch, Q carefully turns in a full circle. Pleased at the lack of beeps, he turns to the other man and quickly sweeps him up and down. Silence again. Room is secure, no bugs detected.

“What the  _hell_  have you done this time, Daniel Edward Holt?” As angry as Q tries to sound, it comes out as a single, relieved breath. It doesn’t help that he’s practically squeezing Danny in a tight hug.

Danny pulls away and looks at his feet, hands buried deep in his coat pockets. He swallows and carefully looks up, still refusing to meet Q’s eyes.

“Gabe… I fucked up. A lot,” he murmurs.

Q sighs, sliding into the booth. He beckons for Danny to join him. He doesn’t object when he sits directly next to him, as opposed to across from him. It’s been like that since they were kids.

“You know, neither of us deserve the Best Twin of the Year Award,” Q leans into his brother, “but you’re still my twin. Now, start from the beginning.”

“I fell in love–”

“Danny, please, you’re almost thirty. Heartbreak isn’t the worst thing in–”

“No, Gabe,” Danny swallows, “I fell in love and now he’s dead.”

Q blanches but his senses come back quickly enough. He’s back to hugging Danny close to him, rubbing his shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Danny,” Q offers his condolences.

“No,” Danny sits straight, sobering, “you don’t understand. My boyfriend was murdered. And I think I’m in danger.”

Q swallows thickly, “the beginning, Danny, start from the beginning.”

“I met him randomly. He wasn’t from a club or a bar or anything like that. Don’t give me that look, Gabriel, it’s not that surprising. Believe it or not, I don’t party twenty-four-seven,” Danny huffs. He reaches into his pocket to fish out a pack of cigarettes. Q snatches them and slips them into his own pocket, shaking his head with a soft tut.

“You’re still a right prick, you know that, yeah?” Danny rolls his eyes, now distracted.

Q scoffs, “just because I’m the responsible one doesn’t mean that I’m a prick. You can’t be a deadbeat  _and_ gay in this family, you know that.”

Danny’s ears turn pink and Q knows it’s a sign that he’s upset. The sharp breath tells that he’s trying not to cry. Once the dramatic one, always the dramatic one.

“Yeah, well I’m sure Daddy’s quite proud of his  _genius_  gay. Lord forbid someone bring up his  _deadbeat_ gay. Christ, Gabe, give me a break.”

Q does feel a little bad so he wraps an arm around Danny and pulls him close, “I’m sorry. Old habits die hard. Alright, why come to  _me_? How can I help you?”

“I don’t know if you  _can_  help me this time…” Danny trails off.

“Danny. What aren’t you telling me?”

“His name is Alex Turner.”

Oh.  _Oh_.

Shit.

**Author's Note:**

> I said something along these lines on the original post but I'll say it again here--I don't usually take on large projects so this is marked as complete but I might dabble more into this. In the meantime, I encourage you guys to pick this up and write the next part because the whole "Q and Danny are brothers" concept is so awesome. Lemme know if you do!


End file.
